


Useless

by Vesile



Series: Korrasami Gap Fillers [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Adolescent Sexuality, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Brooding, Character Study, Depression, F/F, Heavy Angst, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sexual Fantasy, Sexuality Crisis, Suicidal Thoughts, korra's got it baddd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28713186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vesile/pseuds/Vesile
Summary: "She was the snow she stood upon, destined to be water, only to be stripped away of any fluidity, altered, descending into a deadly block of ice."Katara had told her it’s all in her head. She’s safe now, away from danger. Away from the world.And now Korra is free to roam her own world, but it doesn’t feel much different.Maybe if Asami was here it would feel different. But maybe Asami was just like anything else she’s ever felt good about, meaningless and untrue.
Relationships: Korra/Asami Sato
Series: Korrasami Gap Fillers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2104854
Comments: 9
Kudos: 46





	Useless

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, I’m sure being upset isn’t something you necessarily seek, but could I interest you in some study of Korra’s PTSD because maybe I’m a sadist who knows? 
> 
> (Although it isn’t utterly necessary, I’d suggest reading my previous Korrasami fic. Just to have a glance in Korra’s future, while here we dive into her past. Here it is 👉🏻 https://archiveofourown.org/works/27973369 )

“Dinner will be ready soon.”

“Thanks, Mom.” 

“It’s your favorite, steamed Halibut.”

“I’ll be there soon. Mom.” 

“Just make sure to wash up first, okay honey?” 

“Mom!” She turned her head quickly and yelled, but instead of scolding her daughter for disrespect, Senna simply gave a sad look and walked away, closing the door softly behind her. 

Korra wanted to apologize, but her mother’s footsteps seemed too far away. Giving up with a heavy sigh, Korra turned back to the letter she was reading. It was another one from Jinora, consisting of complaints about Meelo only becoming more irritating as he grew older, and her new assignments as an Air Nation member. Her hair had finally grown normally, and she was excited to style it again. 

The corners of Korra’s mouth tilted slightly upwards, she was proud of Jinora, she truly was. A master airbender at only age eleven, assisting Tenzin lead a re-birthed culture, helping the world achieve peace, balance, and everything in between. 

Everything the Avatar was supposed to do. 

Bitterness had suddenly plagued her esteem. She wanted to cry, but then she realized she’d already done that today. Korra grit her teeth and swallowed a lump in her throat. She knew taking easy breaths would be more beneficial, however that notion seemed to only infuriate her more. She slammed her fist down on her desk, crumpling up Jinora’s letter, the sharp edges of the parchment crinkled in agony underneath her palm. Korra tightened her fist, she wanted to light it on fire, it would've been easy. 

The desk still shook from Korra’s hammering, her cup of pens shivering back and forth, taunting her, pressuring her to simply pick them up,  _ You still haven’t written them back.  _

The pens finally ceased their shaking, they gave up, and she did as well. Korra flipped over her scrunched up hand, opening the cage that was her fingers, the trapped letter finally free to unravel eerily. 

She unruffled the letter, through all of Korra’s bitterness, it felt insulting to Jinora to leave her positive letter in such a pathetic, forgetful position. Because Korra knew what that felt like, she knew exactly what it meant. 

She could walk now, that much she was able to achieve, but it was so draining, that all she ever felt was tired. She was so tired. 

She felt alien to the world she was born to protect, an ancient idea, now discarded for something better, or maybe even nothing at all, because who would ever want to compensate for something so useless. 

She was away, far removed, not even knowing if she was needed, no one even made to inform her if she was, because she obviously wasn’t. 

Tenzin’s famous advice echoed in her ears,  _ Be patient _ . She was, she was waiting, she’d been waiting for so long, two years. 

She couldn't jump like she used to, so her mind did it for her. A million different musings for a million different days. 

There were days like the past twelve hours, where Korra would find enough motivation to sit through another letter filled with questions she knew would remain unanswered. Other days Korra would lie awake, suffocating herself in her linen, ironically trying to remove the vision of herself, glowing white eyes, yet pathetically beaten, a sphere surrounding her, consisting of the air stolen violently from her lungs. 

It wouldn’t matter if she opened her eyes, as the same image would appear, threateningly, silently, looming over her, glowing white eyes and all. 

That figure, that grisly figure, never spoke, yet somehow it had a voice, darkly dragging Korra even further away from the world, and into a place no one will ever find her. Maybe she should just give in, let the figure drag her away with those chains of hers, and maybe she’ll be led somewhere, she didn't care where. She didn't care about anything anymore. 

Korra caught herself in the lie. It wasn't true, at least not entirely. She did care, sometimes overbearingly so, drowning in worry, soaked in distress. There were points where she had to physically be anchored, pulled back to the surface, where the ice of the south would coldly remind her how useless it was to care. A waste of thought, a waste of breath, just like the air in her lungs, pilfered. 

There were suddenly three knocks on her door. Korra was able to predict the exact moment her mother would walk in to remind her of dinner. Five seconds exactly, the interval between the rap on the wood and the creak of hinges, the same every time. 

“Korra?” Her mother spoke gently. 

Korra hummed in response, replying to people properly wasn’t an ability she had skillfully mastered. 

“It’s been a while, we were hoping you’d come for dinner tonight.” Senna spoke with concern, and even with her back turned, Korra knew her mother was threading her fingers together nervously. Turning around in her chair, she was proven right. Her mother met her eyes with a small smile. “Will you join us? Please.” 

Succumbing to hunger, Korra rose up from her chair and returned Senna’s small smile. She entered her bathroom and washed her hands, remembering her mother’s request from before. 

“Thank you.” her mother said gratefully. 

They walked in silence towards the dining room, Korra didn’t have much to say anyway. 

“Aah, there you are!” Tonraq spoke amiably, it brought Korra a tiny sense of joy to see her father excited to see her after a long week of silence and what Katara had been calling, ‘Dissociation’.

However, her tiny sense of joy quickly dissolved when she looked down, noticing a glass of Baiju adjacent to her father’s brown rice, the contents half-finished. 

Korra wanted to interject, but resisted. She didn’t want to bother her parents after a week without proper conversation. 

“I’m here!” Korra said with an awkward smile. 

“How are you doing?” He seemed so genuine, but the question was so automatic, so familiar. As if he was programmed to ask his daughter the same question every day, when he should know. He should know how she feels every single day. 

“Fine.” She said, forcing eye contact. 

Not looking away seemed to kill any speculation, as he began offering Korra some brown rice and steamed Halibut. She accepted kindly, her appetite getting the better of her. Korra ate quietly, although she knew her parents wished she didn’t. 

“Katara says I might be able to start sparring again.” Korra said nervously. 

“That’s great!” Tonraq said it excitedly, but Korra knew he wanted to double check with her. Trying to find non offensive ways of conjecturing Katara’s proposition. 

Korra beat him to any objections. “I know you think I might need more time before I try again, but this will be good for me, I need to get back into shape. Please.” Korra looked down at her hands and noticed she had involuntarily balled them up. 

Tonraq nodded along, his lips pursed yet Korra could see a smile in his eyes, maybe he had faith in her after all. 

All of that died when Senna spoke up suddenly, “Korra…” 

The sound of her own name had been said so gently, she knew it held a different power. She felt her heart drop into her stomach, feeling a new surge of anger. Korra wanted to yell before Senna even uttered a third syllable, but she was curious about what her mother had to say. 

“We all know that you're getting stronger, and we’re so proud of you.” Senna said slowly, “You’re running and bending, and all of that is wonderful…” Korra could tell her mother was tiptoeing around her. 

“Stop beating around the bush, Mom.” Korra said dryly, stabbing at her fish with her chopsticks. 

Senna looked as if she was preparing herself deeply for words guaranteed to tip the world of its axis. Was Korra truly  _ that _ irascible? 

“We’ve noticed the way you...disconnect sometimes.” 

Senna took a pause as if to allow Korra to react, when she didn't, the address continued. 

“And we’re aware of how you feel toward Katara’s observations…” Her mother’s voice was quiet, yet so loud in Korra’s ears. 

Korra spluttered suddenly, “Katara acts as if it’s not a big deal! It’s infuriating!” Her arms flew to the air. 

“She does think it’s a big deal!” Korra’s head turned painfully quickly at her father’s unexpected remark. Heart slowly breaking in this act of sudden betrayal. 

“Well she doesn't act like it! All she tells me is ‘It’s in your head’, ‘It’s in your head’!” 

Korra didn’t want to cry. There were a lot of things she didn't want, but the world didn't care, it kept punishing her, never giving her a second to breathe. Any fresh air Korra had ever inhaled, quickly expunged. Whether it was through a sphere encompassing her head with poison running through her veins, or just waking up to another day. Neither felt much different. 

“As if what goes on in my head is something that doesn’t matter! Or something that should be overlooked!” Korra felt her voice going hoarse. “It’s not easy! To just ‘not think about it’! Okay?” 

Korra could tell her parents wanted to turn away. Their pained stares of anything, hurt more. They hardly bared to look at their own daughter. Their crippled, pathetic, useless daughter who couldn’t even control her own imagination. 

“I wanna go to bed now.” Korra started clearing her plate. 

She gulped the rest of her tea as if it was some alcoholic beverage. Maybe the disgruntled look of someone downing a drink angrily would spark a new angle of perception for her father. She didn’t spare a glance at his reaction, she simply put her utensils away and walked out into the hall. 

Korra stomped as she entered her room, using her one ounce left of better judgement, decided against slamming the door. It seemed a little too childish. 

There was a sizable stack of letters on her desk still unread. Korra kept her eyes on the large white pile as she slumped down onto her bed. Re-utilizing her reduced ounce of better judgement, Korra picked up the next letter, it was one page long, and from Mako. She could tell it was him without even reading the address, the paper had Republic City’s police department watermark stamped on the header. Mako must’ve written this during work hours. 

With a deep breath, Korra began to read. 

  
  


_ Hey Korra,  _

_ I guess you’re probably tired of receiving my letters, and I would understand that. Bolin says my letters are boring, I’m honestly not sure what he means. He offered to write my letters for me, I declined. He can write his own.  _

_ I know you won’t answer but, how have you been? Are you walking yet? I hope I haven’t offended you if the answer is no.  _

_ Republic City has mainly gotten back to normal, the spirit wilds are attracting more tourists though, and all the spirit creatures are becoming more friendly. Bolin even wanted to take one as a pet, yet thought Pabu would grow jealous, so he let it go.  _

_ Asami’s new railway system is making huge progress, she somehow managed to perfect the road system too without badly interfering with the vines. I was very impressed with all her work and I’m sure you are too.  _

_ The seasons are changing as well. It’s windy now, and clouds are getting greyer every day. I had to buy a new jacket as my most recent one got Mung Bean Curry on it, and the stain still won’t come out.  _

_ I hope you’re doing better, and we’re all waiting for you when you come back.  _

_ We miss you,  _

_ -Mako _

  
  


The letter didn’t bring Korra too much joy, but it saddened her less than the way each letter normally did. She was glad Mako and the others were gaining a sense of normalcy, adjusting to life, getting settled in the world without her. 

She could never expect anything less than a bitter reaction from herself. 

Korra hadn’t even realized she was getting ready for bed, it seemed her mental peril was so ingrained in her daily thought process, that there were points she wasn’t even fazed. Get dressed, brood. Brush teeth, brood. 

Korra made to pick up another letter, it was from Tenzin, telling her to not dwell on insecurities. Korra wanted to laugh, her insecurities felt the most nailed down part of her. They were, funnily enough, completely secure, pretty adamant about staying, unwavering, uncompromising, alive and dwelled on. 

She didn’t bother finishing the letter. 

The next few letters were old, probably over two months old. Korra prepared to burn them, she settled her hands over the pile when a certain brand logo came into focus on the top letter. 

  
  


_ Future Industries, Republic City.  _

  
  


Korra’s eyes lingered over the professional graphic she had no personal connection with, the CEO on the other hand…

She  _ missed _ her. The ache for her piling up the large mess of her recovery. 

Sometimes at night, soft green eyes would show instead of white glowing ones. And Korra would try and focus on the former, lingering on how they made her feel. But eventually, the glowing white would catch up, and ruin any gratification, but before the storm...

Korra would dream of her best friend, of holding her tightly close, the two of them linked together. 

Korra wondered what she was doing back in Republic City, maybe up late in her office, eyes shutting yet refusing to put the pens and papers down. 

Korra chuckled to herself, Asami deserved all the credit she received and more. Korra meant it, everything she told Asami, or more accurately  _ yelled,  _ all that time ago. Heartbreakingly rejecting Asami’s offer.

  
  


_ “Let me come with you.” _

_ “Asami-” _

_ “It doesn't matter. Let me help you.”  _

_ “You’ve already done enough Asami, you belong here, helping.”  _

_ “No, I’ve done that enough. Why can’t I belong...with you?”  _

_ “What are you saying?”  _

_ “Why are you so quick to push me away, Korra?”  _

_ “I’m not.”  _

_ “You obviously are, I’m offering my care and you’re pushing me away.”  _

_ “I’m tired of having this conversation, Asami.”  _

_ “Fine, if that’s how you feel.”  _

_ “It’s not.”  _

_ “Then how do you feel, Korra?”  _

_ Silence. “Korra?”  _

_ “Please Asami, I’m not gonna be the reason you throw everything away. You’re too valuable. To the world, to Republic City, to me.”  _

_ “You’ll write to me?”  _

_ “I promise. Besides, it will only be a few weeks.”  _

  
  


That conversation would often play in Korra’s head, haunting her. Imperializing the heartening remembrances of Asami that Korra used to so blissfully recall upon. Asami’s selflessness, now nothing but a painful memory. 

The guilt swallowed her. Asami never deserved this, she was good, she was valuable, and Korra was not. She was what once plagued her veins, poisonous, killing the joy of someone who radiated it. 

She lied, she would never be gone for such a short time. But maybe she was right to do so. Korra knew Asami, and how there was a chance that she would have actually left with her to the South Pole. Regardless of the unpredictability. 

The storm was on its way, Korra tried to squeeze the green eyes into the near ending calm. 

  
  


_ Focus on her, on how she makes you feel. How much you want for her, how much you hope that she’s okay. She doesn't need this, she doesn't need you.  _

  
  


Korra was too late, the storm had arrived, unyieldingly, unforgivingly tossing her around with it’s rough winds. She was stuck in a wave, drowning, no air in her lungs, a burning feeling in her throat that not even tears could irrigate. 

He was there, the poison doing it’s work, the airbending she gave him being put to use.

Korra shot open her eyes, her hands tugged at her hair, so frustrated with her mind. Her treacherous mind, rigorous in punishment. 

She ignored the looming figure, or at least tried to. “What more do you want?” Korra yelled. It remained quiet and unnerving. “You’ve already taken everything! You and  _ him _ !” 

Korra stood still, too frightened to approach the figure, it’s white eyes felt dark, strangely lacking the light spirit Raava. It’s sinister silence, lowering Korra’s moods to unprecedented levels. 

Korra backed away into her bed, cold sweat breaking out all over her body. 

“Leave me alone.” Korra said it so pathetically, not even directing it at the figure. 

Her breathing grew short and sharp, her hands jittery, sweat was falling faster and faster. She needed to distract herself. She senselessly grabbed the nearest letter on her desk, it crumpled in her hand. 

Korra didn’t even have to unfold the ridged edges to know who the letter was from. Desperate for any connection, she began to read. 

  
  


_ Korra,  _

_ Hello, how are you?  _

_ I’m doing as well as I can be, with work and all. I really miss you, it’s been tough not hearing from you lately.  _

_ I’m sure Mako’s already informed you on the weather, the changes are easily noticeable along with other things. Like I said, Republic City isn’t the same without you…  _

_ I’ve been trying out new things to adjust to all the changes. My gym offers these new meditation classes, and I’m very lost. I will never understand how you and Tenzin and all the airbender kids just sit and, well, whatever you’re supposed to do. I keep trying, but I guess Zen activities aren’t what I’m built for.  _

_ Speaking of buildings, the new park in Republic City is beautiful, and I can’t wait for you to see it, it’s truly special.  _

_ Raiko has been, well as always, difficult to work with. I try to keep an open mind though, I know how stressful running a company can be, imagine running the United Republic!  _

_ I wonder sometimes if he’s just stressed or just an asshole. Probably both, though you already knew that.  _

_ If you do ever see this letter, and you get a chance to write back, please don’t hesitate to do so. I’d love to hear from you.  _

_ I wish you were here.  _

_ Love, Asami.  _

  
  


Korra’s eyes lingered over Asami’s name, she admired the signature, the stamp logo, the word ‘love’.

A sudden urge to hold the letter closely came over Korra. She shook her head, that was a strange thing to do, let alone think about. Katara’s been teaching her to deliberate on every strange urge Korra feels from time to time. 

Korra re-read the first sentence. 

_ “Hello, how are you?” _

That line initially and normally would have fueled something of anger within Korra, yet in this moment, she felt something she hadn’t felt in a while. 

Maybe Asami wasn’t pitying her, maybe she simply wanted Korra to answer honestly. 

  
  


_ I could be doing better.  _

  
  


She wondered how Asami would’ve reacted to that simple reply. She probably wouldn’t impose, yet if she did, she’d approach it gently, like how she always did. She was so kind it almost hurt. 

That familiar ache resumed in Korra’s chest, she felt it in her shoulders, her stomach, her legs. Korra wanted to tell herself it was guilt, which it very well could’ve been, but it didn’t feel cold. 

Asami shone so brightly, like this unforgettable highlight in Korra’s life. 

Her mind raced. The letters, her name, every moment on Air Temple Island two years ago.

But that was all something of the past, and the past was something Katara told her to move on from. A past battle, one that she had lost.

Maybe she lost Asami too, maybe Korra wasn’t the only one holding her back, but maybe Asami was holding her back as well. 

She did what she’d practiced, and dwelled on her thoughts. The letter had fallen out of Korra’s hands and onto her lap. It’s creases outlined by the moon, highlighting Asami’s name and the phrase above it, “ _ I wish you were here. _ ”

These thoughts, this aching. Maybe it was just all a part of her brain’s evil plan, one big ruse to get Korra to believe that maybe she could find something worthwhile if she gets through this. Like Katara said, find meaning in her suffering. 

But everything nowadays was “suffering”, even Korra’s ache for Asami was just that, an ache, a substantial contribution to her pain. 

Korra thought of other options, maybe Asami was just an illusion, because she was too perfect to be real. Perhaps Asami was something she’d lost so long ago, something she allowed to get away, far away. And who knows if she’ll ever see her again. 

She was gone, and Korra had made sure of that. Finalizing it with the unanswered letters. 

But that wasn’t entirely true, Korra had written Asami back. Granted only once, but she had still found some courage to do so. It was a brief short letter, consisting of Korra confessing her inability to reconnect with Raava. She knew Asami couldn’t help her resolve the issue, she knew Asami couldn’t be there to rock her back to sleep. But somehow that didn’t entirely matter. 

Korra just wanted to share that with her, even if pointedlessly so.

Asami may have been away, but just like many other things in Korra’s head, she remained stubborn. Refusing to leave, and despite her wholehearted kindness, painfully keeping Korra awake. 

Her demons and dark voices, intertwined with the goodness that was Asami. Korra wanted to sever that tie so badly, to finally be able to think of her best friend without being interrupted. 

It was a tie so obstinate, and Korra couldn’t expect anything else, it was  _ her  _ brain after all. 

It was her brain, it was her heart, her imagination. This was something her family and Katara had told her to work through, to sort through her thoughts, warp them to her advantage, to lighten up the dark tunnels leading to bottomless pits of doubt and fear. 

Was Asami another one of these bottomless pits? Another abyss of tormented questions she was too afraid to answer? 

Korra didn’t want to be afraid anymore. She was tired of fighting off whatever this war was, whether internal or not. This battle was dangerous, and Asami was caught in the middle of it. Even when physically removed from the Avatar, Asami was still a target, whether in Korra’s internal tundra, or some random street gang in Ba Sing Se. 

The guilt kept relentlessly afflicting her. She felt another knot of iniquity, woefully aware of how undeserving she was of having a simple wish. 

  
  


_ ‘I wish you were here…’ _

  
  


Korra’s fingertips brushed over the words, her nails traced each letter, picturing Asami’s hands doing the exact motion. 

The visuals, this strange urge to picture Asami’s hands following the same movements as Korra’s, brought her mind to a place it shouldn't have. 

Of course, through self loathing, her mind had shown a thin slice of mercy. Although it didn’t feel like mercy, more tormenting, and definitely more teasing. 

Korra looked around her room nervously. She could. She wanted to. 

Korra retreated backwards through her thoughts, on some of the calm before the storm. 

  
  


_ Focus on how she makes you feel.  _

  
  


Asami made Korra feel many things, a deep puncture through her soul, but also...other things. 

She could feel heat slowly inching its way through her body. The redness on her face shared all of its glory. That useless ache she had felt before in her stomach, slowly turning into something less of a painful pang, but more of a fluid, deep movement everywhere, including between her legs. 

Before anything else could occur, Korra stood up quickly from her bed to check if the door was entirely shut, finding it to be so, she locked it with a simple click. 

Korra rested her forehead on the wall, frustrated. This wasn’t necessarily new to her, and having Asami be the center of her thoughts in such a carnal way wasn’t new either. Yet she felt somehow that she was crossing a boundary, rubbing one off to her best friend? 

Korra closed her eyes in an attempt to level herself and her breathing. Thinking of Asami in such a manner, particularly and quite physically touching upon those thoughts felt a little erring. As if there was some line she stepped too much over, abusing the trust Asami had given her. Taking advantage of Asami’s favourability, and putting it off as something Asami would never gain knowledge of. 

No one would need to know. No one would ever need to know how much Korra wanted to…do things to her best friend. 

It was difficult and oddly off beam to describe Asami as her best friend, did girl best friends cuddle each other? Did they get changed in the same room? Did they really go to the bathroom together? 

Asami was, in no doubt, a female. Yes, a female with...boobs, and really nice hair. Korra was never really exposed to conventional femininity, mostly because up until she arrived in Republic City, most of the females in her life were either Naga or White Lotus members. 

Having such a lack of experience with women, and even men her age affected Korra in ways she never anticipated. It seemed so easy at the time; arrive in Republic City, learn Airbending, bring balance to the world. 

Who knew that would’ve been so laborious? 

Her masters forewarned her of danger, of threats. All which have arrived, and in time, each of their reigns thwarted and terminated. None went without consequence, each battle, each enemy, draining her a little and little bit more. 

Through each endeavor, Korra learnt more and more about this evil content titled as her brain. How she operated, what made her tick. Who irritated her the most, and who made all that irritation go away. 

Having friends, having someone her age she could just sit and talk too, it was outlandish. 

She finally was able to experience a proper sleepover, something Asami went into shock for when Korra revealed that it was something she never had. She chuckled at the memory of it, Asami yelling about how it was a vital escapade in which Korra  _ must  _ participate in. Reluctantly, she agreed, causing Asami to beam in response. 

  
  


_ “Asami, I’m the Avatar! I don’t have time for sleepovers!”  _

_ “Korra, you’re more than the Avatar you know, you’re just you, too. You’re allowed to have fun.” _

_ “Fighting is fun.”  _

_ “What else besides fighting is fun?”  _

_ “Uhh, making fun of Mako?” _

_ “That I agree with.”  _

_ “So what? You wanna spend all night talking about the guy we both dated?”  _

_ “No. I just wanna have fun. And not at someone else’s expense!”  _

_ “Then it won’t be fun.”  _

_ “Very funny. C’mon I can braid your hair!”  _

_ “I feel like you’re proposing this sleepover idea more for yourself than for my sake.”  _

_ “Well...you’re not entirely wrong. I do really wanna braid your hair.”  _

_ “Not a chance. You gotta be a good hostess, remember? So what I say goes!”  _

_ “What do you say then?”  _

_ “I say we order Narook’s, but no hair braiding! Deal?”  _

_ “Deal.”  _

  
  


They shook on it, Asami waving Korra’s casual grip, obviously eager for something Korra waved off as a childish game. It was surprising, seeing Asami all delirious and it not being due to brainstorming for her company or even Pro-Bending. 

It felt so long ago, an relic of some bygone life. A life where smiling didn’t feel criminal, or at the very least, inapposite. 

She could finally look at Asami and not think of Mako. Asami was new and intriguing, not only as a person but as a woman. The other half of this supposed glorious concept Kya had told her was “female friendships”. 

Korra kept the lid on asking Kya questions she had about having an actual human girl for a best friend. She wasn't sure if her strange tendencies around Asami were normal. 

Did girl best friends want to touch each other? In a way where Asami’s back was bare, leaving Korra to run her hands up and down, removing her fingers only to tangle them in her black lustrous hair? Korra didn’t assume that it fell under “normal”. 

Korra didn’t know why it was Asami whom she wanted to be held by, soothed by, when all she knew and saw was fear. The way it would replete her, visibly dripping from her face and body, bedewing her clothes, her pillows and even her hair. Yet it didn't scare Asami off, she didn't hesitate. She would run into the room after being awoken by Korra’s screams, and hardly a second later, Korra would be cradled, and she could hear Asami's whispers of “ _ Come back to me _ ” in her ear. Triggering cries of relief to escape from her eyes, causing Asami to embosom her only further, as if Korra was so close to slipping away forever. 

It didn’t work. Because Korra did slip away, only a few weeks later, disappointing everyone she knew. She probably disappointed Asami as well, all those wasted efforts she made to help Korra to feel...normal. All discarded, forgotten, like how she was now, even disappointing the very people who made her feel...abnormal. 

Whichever side she gravitated towards, it wouldn't matter, she’d be useless either way. 

She missed those few moments, even if they were some kind of trick, where Asami did make her feel normal. That she was worth something beyond the spirit, Korra didn't even know if now, resided inside of her. 

  
  


_ I guess you got what you wanted Asami, I’m no longer the Avatar.  _

  
  


Korra wanted to spit at herself all of a sudden. How  _ dare _ she? Asami wasn't a part of this, Korra had made sure she wasn't a part of this. 

Korra slumped down the wall, tucking her knees into her chest, and began to cry. 

When Korra walked over to this side of her room, to lock the door to do something vulgar, to “get off” to a woman who respected her, who trusted her, she tried to shrug it away. She wanted to allow herself to feel good for once by imagining the one person who made Korra  _ want  _ to feel good. 

She would imagine Asami right next to her, maybe above her, maybe below, she just wanted to  _ feel  _ her. 

She would imagine two pairs of hands, roaming over skin and limbs, pausing only to resume the movements with their mouths, tongues slowly reaching lower and lower. And then it would be bliss, pure bliss. 

She wondered what Asami’s fingers were capable of. Perhaps anything without mercy, the powerful pulse of her motions, filling Korra to the brim with sensations so rocketing, the only feeling to be exceeded would be the urge to return the favor. 

Asami’s black hair might be cascaded messily around her shoulders. And the beads of sweat protruding all over her would make her glowing presence of her even further scintillating. Her body might shiver violently, trying to stifle whatever salacious whispers were threatening to leave her lips. Her professional demeanor, protesting the new, darker, risqué shade. 

But this was Asami, the kindest person Korra knew. Her gentleness was distinguished through her natural intimidation. Her soft touch, holding more power than the Avatar itself. Even without sore fingers, it would be the most intense feeling in the world. 

Were these Kya’s implications? Was this the glorious concept of female friendships? 

She felt stupid for questioning, for being so unsure in such a territory, one every girl her age would be some sort of expert on. Korra knew nothing, she did nothing, she was nothing. Raava had abandoned her, her body, her tundra of a soul, empty, alone. 

She didn't care about becoming a better Avatar anymore, maybe the only way for the pain to end was to terminate it’s source. Reconnecting to Raava was no longer the goal. If Raava truly had left, then Korra couldn't blame her. 

And for the first time, Korra wished she was normal. She wished for a regular childhood, a standard life, one of career stress, social drama, and temporal materialistic satisfaction. Like her mother wanted her to have, and one Asami tried to give her a taste of. 

Korra rose to her feet, and brushed a hand through her hair, she dried her eyes and let out a puff of air. She stared at her bed, it wasn’t very inviting. She looked at the door, and debated walking through it, finding her parents and giving them a well-deserved apology. 

  
  


_ Maybe in a minute,  _ Korra thought to herself. 

  
  


The desk was messy, with papers scattered, and a few blotches of ink staining the surface. She made to de-clutter it, gathering stray letters, arranging them only to make another pile she put herself in turmoil to examine. 

She opened her drawer, and there were white blank pieces of paper, mostly disdained in the past two years. Only ever cleared of grime to be written on briefly, spared of tear stains as Korra had to sometimes look away, refusing to let anything but ink to land. 

Korra did what she was told not to do, and fed her instincts. 

Before her mind could intercept, Korra furiously grabbed a piece of dusted paper, an almost dried out pen, and began to write. 

  
  


_ Asami,  _

_ Hi. I’m not sure how else to start this.  _

_ I just read your letter, the one of you complaining about Raiko and how you can’t bring yourself to mediate. Don’t worry, it took me a while too, just keep practicing.  _

_ Raiko is most definitely just an asshole, you’re being too nice again.  _

_ To answer your question, I could be doing better.  _

_ It’s frustrating, having my family as well as Katara telling me that everything is in my head. It doesn't make all of this any easier.  _

_ I don’t want to get all mopey on you, but sometimes it’s hard to talk about anything else.  _

_ So, this park you mentioned, what’s so beautiful about it? Please tell me they added a turtle duck pond, that would be nice.  _

_ I hope you’re doing okay.  _

_ Love, Korra.  _

  
  


The letter wasn't long enough, but it was all Korra could manage. She sealed it, and internally wrangled with waiting until morning to mail it. Eventually realizing that if she didn’t mail it now, it would remain unsent. 

Pulling on her parka and boots, Korra stepped outside her room, and trudged down the hall, desperately hoping her mind wouldn’t betray her body, forcing her to retreat. 

“Korra?” She stopped in her tracks. Her mother’s soft voice alarming Korra in where she jolted slightly. 

“Hi Mom.” Korra said, turning around, finding the sight of Senna’s half elevated body, somewhere between getting up and and sitting down from the couch, Korra assumed due to hesitation. Her mother was once again treading lightly, precautious in even the decision to sit up from her seat to call out to her irascible daughter. 

“I’m just going for a walk.” Korra lied. 

“Oh, okay.” Senna looked as if she wanted to say more. 

Choosing not to wait any longer for her mother’s flimsy continuation, Korra walked out towards the entrance hall. 

Korra’s nervous steps soon broke, if she wanted to move forward, she would have to run. She could feel the impatience in her head infecting her legs, compelling them to push harder and faster towards the door. Reaching towards something, anything worth running towards. 

What was she running to? Nothing could possibly be at the end of this line of aching. It was an endless path of cold, a hall to a door which led to the outside of a prison Korra could only taste the very center of. 

She was trapped in her own home, in her own skin. 

She continued running knowing it would only lead her to something worse, because the word “ _ better” _ didn’t exist anymore. 

Korra wrenched open the doors, even if it was just to race to the margins of her cages, to stare at where she couldn’t be, and dream of what she couldn’t have. 

Delivering Asami’s letter was done with shaking hands. Korra had to watch it slide through the box, torn between hoping the letter had gotten helplessly stuck in the chute, and feeling a wave of gratitude it didn’t. 

Korra just stood, glaring down at the letter through the tiny hole of the box’s entrance. She could still make out the delivery address, the stamp, Asami’s name. 

Korra was someone Asami missed, someone Asami might have even wanted around. But Asami was yearning for someone that no longer existed, Korra was the Avatar, the Avatar was Korra. That was how it was supposed to be, but Korra was neither. Her own name, her identity, a stranger in a world she was somehow destined to bring balance to. 

She walked away from the box, knowing if she stood any longer it might end up in flames. Her walk was directionless, all she knew was to put as much distance between herself and the mailbox as possible. 

The trudge continued as nebulously as when it had begun, and somehow Korra had arrived at a precipice. 

The world was breathing. The clouds inhaled every drop of water, measuring it’s capacity, until it was free to burst, emanating, showering the world. 

Except in her world, any breaths taken, any breaths released, froze in their movements. Their texture, their very existence, growing cold. She was the snow she stood upon, destined to be water, only to be stripped away of any fluidity, altered, descending into a deadly block of ice. 

Korra wanted for it to melt, so she breathed, only for it to be released in flames. A normal exhalation, now impossible. Fire protruded from her mouth once again as she yelled. 

She punched, the fire warming her fist momentarily before disintegrating into the air. She raised her leg and whirled around, protruding more flames, the line of it not reaching very far in front of her. Deciding to move on, Korra took a stance, feeling the earth beneath her before raising two small blocks of it, bending them away from her, and off the cliff. She quickly advanced, twisting her body in what she hoped was a graceful fashion, and bent the water from the snow, spiralling it away and off the cliff’s edge. Korra was on the lip of the mountain, she hesitated, curling her wrists to produce the element, Korra bent a simple gust of wind, letting it ripple through air. She stared at her still outstretched arm, her wolf-tails still blowing in the breeze she had created. 

She was slower than she used to be, and the elements’ force intensity has lessened. Almost three years ago, she stood on this same cliff, and shook the earth, the water, the fire, and air to levels she could no longer reach. 

So she tried again, she bent one flame after another rock, a whirlwind after another wave. Her transitions between each motion slowly became more nimble. Filled with new motivation, Korra tried bending two elements simultaneously, only to soon discover the feeble attempt and feat to be wasted. As the elements motions served no use, and made no difference. 

An overly familiar sensation subverted her self loathing. Her eyesight grew blurry, and the energy was draining from her body. Keeping her head upright suddenly felt immensely grueling. The breeze pathetically sweeping her slightly off balance. 

The shapes in front of her were suddenly silhouetted, their angles blunting, slowly and eerily. 

  
  


_ Big palace. Just find the big palace.  _

  
  


Eventually she did, not before almost collapsing onto the floor of the foyer. 

“Korra!” 

It was her mother, she was waiting. 

“Mom?” Korra looked up at her mother’s fretful demeanor. 

“I’m here, Korra.” Senna said while gripping Korra’s soldiers, keeping a hold on someone so fragile. 

“I…”’ Korra began, although there was nothing for her to say. 

Her mother’s customary wavering demeanor slowly cracked away with every wobble of Korra’s knees. Through a slowly blackening view, her mother’s voice somehow penetrated, and in a way kept the muddy shapes from swallowing Korra entirely. 

What was wrong with her? 

“Should we get Katara?” Someone said, the tone indiscernible, Korra wasn’t sure if it was her mother who said it. 

“No.” Korra said weakly. The syllable could’ve easily flown over anyone hearkening. However, somehow the frantics faltered, and despite the stillness of the room, something moved in Korra, rose in her. 

“No.” She repeated the conjecture, hoping it at least sounded like one as it spilled shakily through cracked lips. 

There was a dissolve in the haze surrounding everything in her line of sight. The clouds, exhaling, releasing, as they had reached their limit. 

And so had she. 

Her cry hadn’t even escaped her. It’s plan to flee, spoiled by an abrupt pair of shoulders crashing them back against their point of origin. Even her sobs couldn’t taste freedom. 

But Korra tasted something else, something warm, something familiar. She almost bit into her mother’s shoulder, wanting to stifle the howls banging against the cages of her mouth. 

But then Korra felt the ghost of fingers stroke her hair. It silenced the cries, almost painfully. Like a strange choke, pulling the air...outside of her. 

Korra thought she might’ve heard her name, but the curtains closed too quickly. Now unable to spare a glance at an audience member, or even the face in the front row of the crowd. 

It felt too empty to be dark. Black deserved more than to be themed as the default to obscurity. 

There was something green, and red as well. Their shades were precise, intimate to her understanding. She’d seen them before. 

Someone was mumbling, and her body, or more so her spine, shuddered rhythmically. Slowly, she recognized certain movements over certain parts of her body. But her arms were down. Her eyes shot open wide. 

“Hey sweetie.” Or at least that’s what Korra guessed she heard. 

Korra’s wide eyes ransacked the room. It was hers, so any temptation to excessively worry would be a waste. Naga stood in the corner near her closet, she wagged her tail and looked up at Korra hopefully. 

“I…” Korra had a plan to finish her sentence this time around. “I’m sorry.” 

Her mother’s blue eyes maintained a reflection of benign yet heartbreaking condolence. She seemed relieved, and the breath she just released felt ridiculously delayed. 

  
  


_ Did she,...wait for me _ ? 

  
  


The way Senna’s body had sunk - no,  _ plunged _ into a reassured position could prove Korra’s question veracious. 

Korra sat up, as lying down had strangely made her dizzy. It was as if her mother had waited again, patiently for Korra to reach a semi-comfortable position, to wrap her arms around her daughter. 

It took Korra by surprise, and later discomfiture as their bodies weren’t evenly aligned. 

“You did nothing wrong Korra. I’m just glad you’re okay.” 

It was instinct, to interpret the statement as disingenuous. Senna may tread lightly with the cadence of her sentences,  but that didn’t rule out the legitimacy of them. She was like Asami, honest, yet still, somehow kind. 

Honesty’s best friend was bad news. She just assumed this was the natural order of the world. 

She can’t feel good about things, because those things didn’t exist. 

But her mother was here, her embrace felt very real, and it felt very good. 

It was simple, nothing existential, nothing that required tissues. It was just her. Her mother, someone who cared, and in the most natural and honest way. 

It was quiet, ironically the need to not feel terrified of that realization suddenly becoming heavily so. Her mother suddenly held her tighter, maybe sensing Korra’s fear. 

Naga whined, jealous of the family hug she was being left out on. Korra smiled at her large, whimpering, furry best friend. Korra was in the midst of patting the bed to signal her when Naga rushed forward, nuzzling her nose between Senna and Korra’s bodies. 

The warmth had doubled, and Korra was almost overwhelmed. She could feel something melting within her, returning feeling to her cold and numb fingers. She gripped the back of her mother’s robe and Naga’s neck, not a trace of ice entering her senses. 

It had liquified, battling it’s enemy. The poison no longer ran unopposed. There was something else inside of her, maybe foolishly determined to win, to uselessly fight outnumbered and outmatched in a deathly tundra. She rooted for it, she held the people holding her for a boost, absorbing their strength, their warmth. 

Her eyes were closed, she could still feel them flooding. That something inside her was winning, celebrating by spreading itself in and outside her body. The tears had landed in her mother’s hair as if to acknowledge and thank her. 

Another body fell on top of them, and Korra almost laughed despite the consuming vehement feelings. 

Her father had joined them sometime and somehow. Korra felt him kiss the top of her head, and she just broke, yet somehow also filled with strength. 

There was love inside of her, and it wanted so much more. She wanted to tell her parents she loved them, she wanted to love herself enough to maybe believe she wasn’t entirely useless. She wanted to tell Asami she loved her. Because she did, in all honesty, and maybe that wasn’t entirely bad. Maybe Asami was true, and Korra definitely knew that she was good. 

But she wasn’t here, and Korra wasn’t there. 

She won’t allow herself to regret it, she won’t. 

Asami wasn’t here, but maybe Korra will see her again. And maybe, just maybe, she could hold her without the fear of slipping away. 

Until then, Korra would hold who she could. She didn’t know if her current clutches could be further secured, but she tried doing so anyway, even if it wouldn’t work. 

“I’m hungry.” Korra whispered to the three figures surrounding her. 

They chuckled, “We still have leftovers if you want.” Her father said into her hair. 

Korra nodded, “Okay.” 

She wanted to move, she didn’t lie, she was hungry. But she remained enveloped, and returned the hold with greater strength. 

“Do we have any tea?” She asked quietly. 

“I can go make you a cup if you want.” Senna let go to look at Korra. 

Korra suddenly felt shy. “Can you?” 

Her mother nodded, pushing Korra’s stray strands away from her face and behind her ear. 

Korra’s eyes fluttered closed at the feel of it, resembling a feather, lightly grazing over her cheek in a playful yet reassuring manner. 

She didn’t feel pitied. She felt alright, even if it would fade tomorrow. Even if it was temporary, that didn’t necessitate any implications that it was unreal. It was warm, and something Korra knew she would have to appreciate for however long it lasted. 

She hoped maybe it would last at least thirty-six hours, or maybe twenty-four. Maybe the world, her world, would pause it's billowing blizzard, even just for a moment. 

Maybe that moment was now. 

Korra held both of her parents' hands, taking turns to show them her softening guise. “Thank you.” 

  
  


_ Fin.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I found it quite intriguing, how easily I was able to understand Korra’s trauma. As I fortunately have never suffered from PTSD. 
> 
> However, each time I revisioned, my eyes slowly opened wider and wider until it hit me. While our experiences were far from equal, our issues somehow seemed to lay on similar ground. 
> 
> The way both and Korra and I feel guilty and afraid about enjoying good things. The way we both lack the ability to recognize inherent worth. 
> 
> If anything, writing this dove me further into a pit of depression. But at the same time, it was a sense of comfort. It’s odd, finding solace in other’s trauma. Isn’t it?


End file.
